Boy Issues - Morticia Knight Page 0,30
he could stop himself. “Here? You’re not serious.”
Silver crossed his arms. “I understand that my apartment probably doesn’t live up to your usual gold star standards, but I’m not letting you leave until I know you’re all right. You’re especially not getting behind the wheel.”
Right as Donovan was about to go off and gripe to Silver that he couldn’t tell him what to do, he found he didn’t have the desire to. To have someone be so genuinely worried about his welfare was like a drug Donovan never wanted to stop taking.
“Does this mean you’ll be cuddling with me all night?” Donovan batted his eyelashes. He’d been sort of joking.
“Sweet Jesus, you’re too much.” The corners of Silver’s mouth quirked as if he was fighting to keep from smiling.
“You can’t have too much of a good thing, right?” Donovan cocked one eyebrow.
Silver shook his head, chuckling. “I’m not sure about that. Depends on your definition of good.” He locked gazes with Donovan. “I’m serious about you staying here, though. You can have the futon and I’ll crash on the air mattress.”
Donovan glanced around the small open area. Other than the couch that would soon become a bed, there was only a low, beat-up wood coffee-table, an upholstered side chair of indeterminate age with a blanket thrown over it and a dresser against the wall in front of him. Above that were some shelves with books and stacks of magazines.
“There’s an air mattress?”
Silver passed in front of him to the other side of the door then yanked a black curtain open, revealing a small closet area. He dragged out a large clump of vinyl and an air pump, then dropped them on the wood floor.
“Sometimes friends stay over, so I keep this around—just in case.”
Donovan regarded the smushed up pile of plastic. The only time he’d ever seen anyone use one, was when he and his brother had gone camping with the kids of one of the firm’s clients. Donovan had been twelve, and Lawrence nine. Lawrence had whined so much about having to sleep on the ground, that their father had purchased them each air mattresses to bring along.
The looks the family and their kids had given him and his brother when they’d shown up with the mattresses in their shiny new cases, had embarrassed Donovan to no end. He hadn’t wanted to use his, had wanted to sleep on the ground like the other kids, but his father had made him swear he’d play along, so that Lawrence wouldn’t be the one who was embarrassed.
“Hey, Donovan.”
Donovan jerked up his head. “Huh? Oh! Sorry.” He plucked at his beard. “I sort of drifted there.”
Silver left the mattress and pump where he’d dropped them, then came over and sat next to Donovan.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll do my best to make it happen.” Silver patted his knee a couple times. “And I don’t mean sex.”
Donovan let out a light laugh, the situation so odd, yet he wouldn’t change anything about it. He and Silver were connecting on some level Donovan didn’t understand, but a sense of calm had washed over him. He never wanted the comfort of that feeling to end.
“I…” He angled his head to meet Silver’s gaze. “Would you believe me if I told you I don’t know what I need?”
“I believe you haven’t figured it out yet. I’d say that’s a given.” Silver gave Donovan’s chest a gentle poke. “But somewhere in here, if you ever let yourself go, you’ll discover what you need.”
Donovan folded his hands then lowered his head. Fuck me. Silver radiated more strength and wisdom than any of the old guard idiots who ran in his father’s circles. Hell, his father too, for that matter. Heads of major corporations, high stakes investors, politicians—not one of them had ever impressed Donovan—no matter what sort of grandstanding they’d done. Yet, Silver had done so without even trying.
“Maybe…” He cleared his throat. “Part of us getting to know each other could involve you talking me through that?” When Silver didn’t tease him, he continued. “It seems as if you already have that figured out for yourself.” He tucked one side of his hair behind his ear. “And here I am, over forty…”
“Knock that off, Donovan. Your age has nothing to do with it.” Silver patted his knee again and Donovan wished he’d just fucking leave it there already. “I’m willing to bet your circumstances are what drives your inner struggles.”
“Sort of ridiculous though, don’t you